Because the truth was too terrible
by feathered moon wings
Summary: Natasha has been missing for six weeks with the Avengers unable to find her, when they do, they come to realise their problems haven't even started. "...her afflictions are more complex than you can imagine, my friends. Natasha is prisoner by her own will and means." With The Widow in a coma and in danger of her own mind, will Thor be able to make her wake up?
1. Cold

" _And one, and two, and three…"_

The floor was cold. So cold.

" _And four, and five, and six, and…"_

The floor was so, so cold; icy cold in fact. The concrete walls were damp and covered in a fine layer of frost. If she had been a tad more aware of her surroundings, perhaps she would have noticed the puffs of her breath materializing in front of her, mist disappearing into the darkness.

" _Okay girls, balancé!"_

The pain in her body was a blur of feelings and sensations; where the strongest ache began and where the least painful ended she did't know, after a time they had begun to blend with one another. But as a matter of fact, everything had been pushed to the back of her mind a long time ago, because it was **so cold** …

Her ragged clothes no longer dripped with the remains of he last encounter but she was still soaked. Freezing from the water they had shoved her into, just like falling trough a layer of ice and into a lake; she'd known, she'd been there.

It was a constant feeling that griped at her limbs like a weed and wouldn't let go.

 _The soft light streamed through the ceiling windows, crashing gently against her creamy skin and bright hair._

" _Aaand… pirouette!"_

She felt it in her veins, traveling in her blood like a disease at a snails' pace. The cold. The use of the electric wires they had used on her feet had begun to look dim in comparison.

Why couldn't she move her broken fingers? Not that she had any desire to do so, after all, they were indeed broken, but she was _so sure_ she had been able to move them a few seconds ago. She couldn't feel them now… She had also been trembling, shaking like a leaf in a storm that clung desperately to the branch; she… wasn't trembling now. That was a bad sign she recalled almost consciously; her sight blurring again in the darkness of the room.

 _The world was spinning around her. A beautiful, shapeless blur of light and soft hues of brown and white and red and mirrors and so much light._

 _Her world kept spinning and it was beautiful._

 _So beautiful._

Her body shock interruptedly every minute or so in a vain attempt to keep her warm. It was so dark and the ground was hard and the walls were damp and _she was cold!_

But it was strange, because she had been incredibly hot at one point, but now she was cold, like she had been dumped with little clothes in her mother country. She knew she had not imagined the electrical hotness all around her body when she looked at the limp hand and the blackened tips of her fingers, burnt like leaving a piece of meat too long on the frying pan. Her feet, too, were blackened; there was a nerve there that was connected directly to the brain, that's why it hurt more than others.

 _The world came into focus and she smiled._

Her lips fell down; she had not even the strength to turn her head towards her shoulder to keep herself warm. The world was dark and she was alone. The door creaked open and a thin ray of damped light burst into the room, crashing with her lax frame and the concrete wall behind.

And no one dare ever say that Natasha Alinova Romanova used the last of her breath to whimper in the darkness. The Black Widow does not whimper against flies.

* * *

 **Abril: No comments, just that the italics are her change of awareness between concourses and dream/hallucination/whatever.**

 **Thanks to my ever helpful and patient beta, Mondhase, for the help!**


	2. So long and at last I see you

"It's been weeks." Said Clint as he dragged his callused hands over his short hair; anger ebbing away and opening the door to frustration.

It had been six weeks since the disappearance of Natasha; Clint could feel the desperation eating him from inside with every passing second, he just wanted to find his closest friend, it had been too long already. Before he had been raging mad, now he was just plain sick and drowning in worry; he just wanted her **safe**. Was that too much to ask?

"Hang in there, Barton." Said Steve with his never-wavering voice, full of confidence and always ready with a command at the tip of his tongue if need be. "Banner says he has a pretty good lead this time. He and Stark are working very hard on finding her location." He tried to reassure the archer kindly.

" **Yes**. That's what they said the last _**two times**_!" Clint shouted, hitting the holographic maps on the table with his clenched fists. "When are we going to take action, Cap? Nat could be dead for all we know! No, not dead. Do… do you even know the amount of money some countries would pay just to have her in their possession for a few hours? And not even to actively get information out of her, no, just for the satisfaction of torturing her! Do you know how _many_? I've lost count!"

"I know Clint, believe me, I know. But you can't lose control of yourself like this every time you despair, _you're not the only one who's worried about her._ " The Captain said roughly but not unkind, he was just as desperate as the archer was, but he couldn't let it get to him; letting his emotions run free could compromise their mission and there was nothing more that he wanted more than to get Natasha home _safe and sound_. Deep down, he knew of course, that it was a false hope, she would be neither safe nor sound, but bring her home he would, even if it took him the rest of the year or the next or the next. "As long as we don't know if she's dead for a fact, we will continue to look for her to the best of our abilities. You have your best contacts on it and we also have Banner's and Stark's genius. Now settle down Barton." He commanded.

Hawkeye sighted heavily, slumping his shoulders and nodding shortly after a moment.

Sitting quietly, Thor waited next to one of the window of the jet as he listened to his comrades argue; his emotions mixed but keeping quiet so he would not get in the way of the others. Though he had many abilities and could be helpful in most of the Avengers' scenarios, he would be the first to admit that the engines of this world were but a mystery to him. The technology, although similar to some of Asgard, was very difficult for him to comprehend; obsolete as it was, he could not quite wrap his head around it, but he was getting there, he would eventually. So a bit resigned, but ready to interfere or offer a helping hand in case it was needed, he sat by the window and waited for something, watching the sea of clouds move below them with grace. He would've asked Heimdall for help, but the Bifrost was having a few difficulties at the time and he couldn't go home. They would have to do it their way.

The three men turned their heads at the sound of cursing and a few things faling from the other room. Dr. Banner entered inmediatly the operations room with a slight lack of breath and an eager look upon his face, Tony's vocabulary still flying in the other room.

"We found her, we know where Natasha is." He announced breathlessly, his eyes shining brightly with hope.

"What are we waiting for?" Replied Steve, anticipation filling the whole room.

* * *

To their surprise, the place they were looking for was not in Russia, as most of the clues had seemed to lead, but in America. It was an innocent looking packing company with a load of dirty little secrets underneath.

For all the apparent normality and almost cleanness that the upstairs business presented, the one underground was of a terribly poor condition. More than a hidden base of the Russian mafia, it resembled a squared sewer. It was not stinking with the smell of waste as someone might expect from the description, nor was it dark like one might imagine from what one has seen in the movies; an unavoidable and unfortunate end for the fictional heroes. It resembled a sewer for the single fact that every corridor seemed to leak; the concrete floors where damp and the walls looked like a cold glass of beer on a summers evening as it sweated cold droplets.

They were silent and swift: Thor, Hawkeye and Captain America dispatching of the occasional soldier or unfortunate passerby's. It had been agreed that the best strategy would be barging incognito rather than their usual blast-it-all well-practiced entrances. Up in the packaging company, Tony and Bruce were making sure none of the cameras would catch them, wraking the systems and ready to suit-up (or beasten-up) if their plan went awry. They needed to be perfectly inconspicuous; it was that or risking the possibility of being found and the captors of their dearest teammate taking her away again and hurting her or even worse, killing her just before they got there.

They couldn't risk it. _They wouldn't risk it._

The structure seemed almost infinitely deep with layers upon layers of stairs and shifty rooms, but they never got lost, the brilliant billionaire leading them safely from level to level.

"Three soldiers, Cap. Left on the next turn." Tony said onto Steve's earpiece, the blond throwing his shield and knocking them out all at once.

They made a swift descent, but it was not swift enough for Barton, if he had to wait a minute more he was probably going to rip his skin off.

"What's next, Stark?" Asked the leader as they came to a corridor and another set of stairs.

"Give me a minute…" The man in question replied, accompanied by the sound of his fingers typing on a keyboard. "Okay, I found the holding cells, but…" they waited as the scientists discussed from their side of the com. "Guys, we think you're going to have to split up." He concluded after a moment. "I found where our hosts are, too, and we think it would be better if someone took care of them."

"We don't know what sort of back up they could have and it would be better if someone took them out and another went for Natasha at the same time." Said Bruce. "There's some security around the cells, but not many, they seem to be on a break or something so be careful not to give yourselves away." He added with a small tone of doubt in his voice.

"Oh well, the perks of lunch time, wouldn't you say, doc?"

"Copy that, Stark. Give us the locations and we'll spread out." As he said this, Steve shot the archer a disapproving look; it seemed the man was ready to bolt down the stairs the minute the location of Natasha came through.

And Clint knew, god was he aware, that his behavior was scratching the unprofessional, but he was finding it hard to stop himself. He settled momentary for the sake of Steve, but his efforts wouldn't last long.

After getting all he needed to know from Iron Man, the Captain looked at the other two.

"Well, you heard that, we're going to-"

"I'm going after, Nat." Clint cut him off without a thought.

"Yeah, I suspected as much." Said the soldier unimpressed. "I'll be going after the leaders. Thor, go with him; Stark is going to disable what he can of the security measures of the cells but the rest is up to you, got it?"

"Aye, Captain." He said with a solemn face.

"I don't want anyone staling or getting side tracked." The word _revenge_ was certainly implied somewhere in the sentence, but he didn't need to say it, the other two blonds understood. "Neutralize the guards and extract Natasha. I'll meet you all up outside."

They took their separate ways; Rogers headed down just two floors below and the other two five.

Inside the meeting room of the Russian mafia, the strong sent of alcohol was present. They talked animatedly and laughed pleasantly, it was a good day for them. The door opened, but they paid it no heed, the place was secure and it was probably just a fellow man with a report to make, however, the American accent snapped them out of their talk.

"You've made a huge mistake." Said the blond soldier as he stood underneath the doorframe with his shield in one hand and a gun in the other. "And you're going to regret it."

Three floors underneath that encounter, two heroes ran quietly on the lookout for the 'special' holding cells. They found a big metal entrance not far from the stairs they had come from and just as promised, all technological boundaries where dealt with when they got there; the guard in front of the door not even realizing it would open with a push.

Clint gave the man a clean punch to the head and he fell down like a chopped tree, the guard having had just a split second to see the fist coming. Pushing the metal door open, they found a large row of doors of different kinds and looks on both sides of the new corridor. They where instantly spotted though and a fight erupted in the hallway.

These men had obviously been well trained and were experts in the field of battle; the two Avengers no longer had the element of surprise by their side so there was contact in the blink of an eye.

Filled with pent-up rage, Hawkeye dispatched of the men almost as fast as he could shoot and draw an arrow; they came at him, but his fists and kicks where calculated and precise, always hitting key points and aiming for the worst. Thor, was not having much trouble himself, dropping many bodies with a single swing of his harmmer and a bolt of bright lightening, very careful of course not to electrocute his teammate in the process.

The god chuckled as a guard thought it would be an intelligent idea to shoot him with an electric gun, the energy rolling over his skin like a gush of wind. His enemy gaped at Thor and with a closed fist he knocked the man out, careful, too, because he didn't want to break the other's skull; sometimes he forgot how strong he really was in this world. A man jumped on his back and tried to stab him in the chest, the blade bending slightly and sliding over his Asgardian armor. Using his height and weight as an advantage, the god let his body fall backwards and before the other could think, his head slammed down against the hard ground.

Hawkeye was trapped in a deadly dance, his attacker was just as good as him in hand to hand combat and if it had been a different situation, Clint would be having the time of his life; it was hard to come by someone who could match him in a fight, but he was in no mood to mess around and wanted it over quickly. So when a small flaw finally showed in the other's technique, he took his chance; gaining momentum and jumping up in the air, he slammed his feet against his attacker's mid section, making him lose his balance and stumble back. Without thinking twice he hooked an arrow and shot. Taking another from his quiver he turned, but the fight had already ended, at the feet of the god the last man fell.

Thor turned his head slightly and looked at his comrade from the corner of his eyes.

"Are you doing well, my friend?" He asked softly and the archer nodded. "Come on then, let us find the Lady Natasha."

They skipped most rooms as they ran forward, they didn't need to guess or check everything; the answer had already been given to them by Iron Man. They reached the room and with a simple turn of the handle, the door opened; in the end, force was not necessary.

The room was dark and the dim light from the corridor flooded in like a silver lining. Clint walked in quietly and looked around the cold place. His breath was lost as he instantly found his precious friend slumped against a wall.

The chest of the woman rose and fell in an uneven pattern and her beautiful face was marred with dark purples and greens, making it not so beautiful any more. Her clothes were torn and all the days she had been lost to them were clearly marked upon her body.

Before he would make a deep analysis of all the damage that her body had suffered, Clint dropped to his knees beside her.

"Natasha?" He whispered, his hand the touch of a ghost over the side of her face; his eyes looking expectantly at her closed lids.

After a moment, her eyes opened slightly and they were tired and sad; defeated. They looked at each other for a terribly long time and with a chocked sob he touched her forehead with his, letting go of a deep breath of relief.

"It's okay now." He reassured her. The Black Widow closed her eyes again and let a sigh of her own leave her, silent and small. She was safe at last.

From the doorframe, Thor watched and to his mind came a poem from long ago. The verses engraved in his heart and in his brother's, for their mother had taught them and so it was kept.

" _In the dark night of the starless sky_

 _I will follow the road of the lonesome soul._

 _There will be no light to guide my way through the danger,_

 _nor friendly a sword to guard my back._

 _So then, please, let the beasts sink in their claws;_

 _let them drag me down into the endless pit._

 _Surely; I will flee, I will fall and I will despair at the end._

 _But then your sight will be a balm upon me;_

 _a mother's kiss or a lover's embrace._

 _Long have I looked for you in the darkness,_

 _long have you been hidden from my sight._

 _So many eons your presence has been lost to me_

 _but no more._

 _So long and I last I see you._ " He whispered under his breath and looked up.

It was time; they had to go back to the others.

* * *

 **Abril: Whomever caches the Arrested Development hint gets a cookie haha.**

 **Well, I hope you liked it and that nothing seemed too out of character. Next chapter will get to the main plot of this story!**

 **Funfact: I had the title of this chapter ages before I knew there was going to be a poem but at the end it sort of fitted, beware, I may change the poem later, I'm not completely satisfied by it.**


	3. For he is thunder as he is healing

At long last, Natasha was home again, as it should be.

Home for Natasha had never been a place; in fact, the word hadn't had much of a meaning until recent years. It was a foreign concept to her, one that still gave her trouble from time to time. These days, home to her meant a bunch of dysfunctional men with an uncanny willingness to help and protect others, but more importantly, with an uncanny fondness towards her. It was something that had taken the assassin more time to understand than she was willing to admit, but in the end, it had slowly sank in until just the fear of waking from a dream or losing the meaning of this word had remained.

And so, she was home; but as much as Natasha's body had begun to heal, she did not wake.

Clint, the ever faithful friend to her, had not for a moment left her side unless completely necessary. He could feel himself slowly going mad as he kept his growing grief at bay. It was a stupid thing, he thought; Natasha was not dead and he should have been jumping up and down in happiness; but they had looked for her for months and when they had found her, it had been as if they hadn't found her at all, she was not with them yet.

The others were not far behind Clint. The tower had become a solemn place to be as the Avengers waited for an uncertain future; when the time came would Natasha pull through? Oh, most definitely. How long would it take for her to wake up? Well, _that_ was something truly uncertain, things were not looking all that great.

Physically, there was nothing that would deny the woman the chance to wake up; as much as her body was damaged, she should have been able to. And yet she had fallen, it seemed, into a coma.

Her body was a wreck. Broken bones, fractured limbs, internal bleeding, lacerations, a few whipping marks and most evidently, the blackness of her fingers from electrocution and a little bit as well from hypothermia. If they were unlucky enough, she would lose two from her right hand and one from her left. Amongst a few other things were her left ankle that was beyond repair, mangled and had been bent to an unnatural angle when they had found her, her right shoulder too was a frail thing, for a moment there they thought it would be beyond saving. All in all, the possibilities of getting back in the field were almost non-existent; things weren't looking good. But she was there with them, and that was the most important thing.

Silence had claimed Thor since they had found Natasha; no one had questioned it, their focus solely on the red head. It was something strange indeed, because although the god was not a chatterbox, he was not usually as silent as he made himself appear at the moment, either. Though sometimes it may not seem like it, Thor was fond of contemplation; big words and songs he had, but his thoughts he kept to himself and he was quite content to merely hear and watch. Earth had changed him in many ways, this being one of them; he hoped it was for the better.

Since Natasha's rescue, Thor had watched her from afar. He suspected in his heart that there was something more with Natasha than simple unconsciousness, but he dared not speak out of uncertainty. He could feel it in his chest like rain clouds approaching or the electricity in the air; something was amiss. He was eager to prove his theories, but humans, he had come to learn, were wary of the unknown and his methods were nothing but alien to the mortals.

The tips of his fingers tingled with power at the sight of Natasha's wounds. He ached to place his hands upon her broken bones and bruised skin to mend tissue and crack; to heal her would be a relief on his restless power, but her mind, he mind troubled him the most. Something was not right.

Three days after her rescue finally made Thor close the gap he had forced himself to maintain between him and the bed where she laid; he had decided this was no time for petty fears or insecurities of his own, what kind of king was he to be, bested by his doubts?

The absent form of Hawkeye was hard to miss, after three days of the man's immovable presence in the room, it seemed strange to see the chair beside Natasha's bed empty; her hand too, had been mometarily left on its own and seemed somewhat lacking without the other's. Thor smiled slightly, he could picture perfectly in his mind how the agent Maria had finally come into the room to get the archer on his feet to send him for a warm bath and later some food and rest. Clint had argued fiercely, but to challenge a woman of such will as the one of Hill… well, Thor did not consider such a move wise, having learnt from his youth that such confrontations were better left avoided.

The god walked from the window to the bed where the assassin laid, her face without expression but painted with many colorful bruises and cuts. She was paler than usual, Thor noted, her unmoving eyelids telling him she was not dreaming; she had not, since her rescue, he wondered if the others had noticed this. The physicians probably had.

Leaning slightly against the bed he took with his big callused hand her smaller, but powerful from years of harsh training and weapon managing, one with care. As he looked at her, he thought of his comrades back home and how these earthlings, whose lives were so fleeting and small and so easily snuffed out, had come to be just as worthy of his friendship and trust as his friends whom he had know for centuries. Life was strange, he thought with a little smile.

Clearing his mind of anymore stray thoughts, Thor reached out with his free hand and placed it upon Natasha's forehead, concentrating on the task before him. It would be best to carry on with his test now that there was no one in the room to see neither him nor his otherworldly powers; he knew sometimes humans could be frightened by the unknown with ease, although his comrades hardly ever so, but still.

He closed his eyes and let the softer side of his power reach out to her mind; it poured into her as freely as the water flows through rivers and falls into ponds and lakes. He was momentarily lost to the world outside as his senses blurred and bended, his mind's eye soaking in Black Widow's dormant thoughts, memories and more. He was looking for something within her mind, a quick overview that hopefully would tell him why he felt such distress at her mind.

Thor frowned in the outside world… could it be?

As the god was assessin the situation within the mind of Natasha, Clint Barton walked into the medical bay. The sleep in his eyes and the weariness of his body were instantly forgotten, and for a moment, his mind froze. His eyes widened in sudden horror.

"Thor, what are you doing?" He asked panicked, not knowing if this was a threat or not; the sight sickly familiar to the one he had been through himself at the hands of Loki. His instincts were yelling at him to grab his bow and stab an arrow straight into the god's head. Letting the most reasonable part of his mind think for him, he did the next best thing, but not as rash, running swiftly from the door frame to the other side of the bed where the good leaned. He grabbed his hands and yanked them off from his friend's body.

The archer's heart was about to leap from his chest when the scene before him had sunk in. From the fingers of the god placed upon Natasha's head a golden light had been flowing, blue threads all around, and it had all gotten inside her.

The blond man stumbled as if dizzy, the sudden cut of his connection like jumping on a frozen lake. He blinked his dazzled eyes that were just beginning to adjust to the medical bay as the rest of the team poured into the room; the loud shout of Hawkeye had reached them in the living room next door where they had all been worriedly resting as of late.

"Thor! What were you doing!?" Clint asked again, his grip still strong on the wrists of the other, anger beginning to boil in him at the little knowledge he had of the situation.

After a few seconds, the god finally came to his senses. He looked down at his trapped wrists and with an indignant huff and an effortless tug he freed himself from the other's grip. The archer still glared at him with a vengeance and ire that would have made any lesser man tremble.

"Guys, what happened? What's going on?" Asked Steve, ever the leader, as he took the reins of the situation.

"I do apologize, my friends." Thor answered with honesty, but his eyes only on Clint, so he knew his words were meant especially for him. "I was… checking on the well being of the Lady Natasha." Thor said carefully "I fear my deeds were misunderstood; I swear I meant no harm upon her." His voice was earnest and leveled.

"What are you even taking about Thor?! You were doing something to her, I saw you!" Clint realized how childish that sounded, but he didn't really care, he was confused and scared out of his wits for Natasha. What had Thor been doing?

"I was… looking into the workings of her mind." As the words had left the god's mouth, various forms of exclamations left his teammates, none of them on the good side.

"Please, my friends. Wait but a moment!" He asked "I was looking into her mind to see if I could aid her in whatever her peril may be."

There was a sudden silence and a thick confusion that filled the room. But the heroes no longer shouted.

"What do you mean, Thor?" Asked Tony with a frown. "You mean like, you go all Loki on her or something?"

"Anthony, that is not what I meant." Answered the god with a small pout at the words. "If you imply I would change her believes and tamper with her thoughts, then I fear you do not know me at all." How dare this man ever question his motives like that? Were they not allies and friends?

"No, Thor. Nobody's questioning your loyalties." Steve stepped in. "I think Stark only wants to understand what you were doing. We don't know what's happening and something's clearly got Barton off his game. It's not a crime to be wary against what we don't know or understand." He explained softly so neither man would have an excuse to get riled up. "You can tell us."

"I was…" the god sighed, "trying a healer's methods. Like what you do with your scans and machines."

"You… want to scan her mind, Thor? Is that what you were doing?" Asked Bruce.

"In a way, I only wish to see what ails her." He answered.

"Can you do that?" Clint looked up at him, unconvinced. His previous anger slightly cooled but still strong.

"I can indeed, archer, do not doubt it." Replied the god, sure of his abilities "I've… this is hard to explain…" He flexed his fingers as he looked for the words he was missing. "I can feel her ails through my power as one can feel when someone is looking at them, it is… something instinctual, if you may."

"Yes, but what would be the _use_? She's in a coma." Clint pointed out, a little bit exasperated.

"I think it is not simple unconsciousness that afflicts her." Thor waved his hand in the air when the words fled him again. "Please, my friends, just… allow me to see for myself, I'll do her no harm. You have my word." He said with an honest face.

The mortals gave him no answer, but neither was he stopped when he approached the pale body of the redhead again. They shared hesitant looks between them, not quite knowing what to do. His moves where slow as he did not want to startle them; he felt himself young again, reminded of the time when he and his brother had lured wild creatures into their arms, gentle finger through their furs as they crouched still and quite, not to hunt them, but out of childish curiosity.

But as careful as the god was being, they were all restless inside. It felt like a betraying thought, but the sight of Thor wilding his power inside the head of the assassin was unknown ground to them; he felt like a treat in their presence as he preached about things they didn't know. In their line of work anyone who came into a situation with no information whatsoever, would usually end up losing or in a bad place. Worst-case scenario, someone died. But still they stayed frozen in their spots, inevitably waiting for something terrible to happen, but deep down hopeful of what could be done.

It felt as if eternity was passing them by as the blond placed his fingers over Natasha's forehead and a golden glow spread from them –a soft, beautiful light with faint threads of blue that resembled little lightning rays floated around his skin- but it had not been more than a few moments, really. Everyone was wary, but no one interfered; Clint in particular clenched his fists at the closeness of the other two; he imagined Thor's big hands as they crushed their enemies; he had to inevitably suppress a shudder and keep on looking.

Thor's eyes focused again, and with a faint inhale, he drew his hand back.

"What is it that you said the physicians called the Lady's condition?" he asked, turning to both Banner and Stark.

"A coma." They said.

"And what does this 'coma' imply? What are the symptoms?" He asked, looking down at Natasha with a thoughtful gaze, wanting to know every detail.

"Well… someone who is in a coma is unconscious and will not respond to voices, other sounds, or any sort of activity going on. The person is still alive, but the brain is functioning at its lowest stage of alertness. You can't shake and wake up someone who is in a coma, like you can someone who has just fallen asleep. Thoughts, ideas, dreams; they are all halted to an almost stage of being a vegetable." Said Tony sadly, looking down at the redhead's emotionless face.

Tony had brought in the best of the best doctors he could find for Natasha. He had also put all of his mind into everything there was to know of the current problem; from her physical ailments to her drawn out coma, he liked to be well informed, thank you very much. Usually comas did not last much; some hours, some days, strange cases even months, but sometimes… sometimes they lasted years or for as long as the person had to live. The doctors were afraid Natasha might not wake up; perhaps because of the trauma to her body or because of the trauma to her mind. He might not have been a doctor, but he was a fast learner and knew all he had to of the current situation; their fears were well founded.

There was a moment of silence as the blond man thought of the answer he had been given.

"You are quite right, to an extent, Stark." He said, lifting his gaze to meet the other's.

"What do you mean, Thor?" Asked Steve before the billionaire could open his mouth to protest at the prospect of being 'almost' right.

"I fear 'tis is not a normal coma which ails our friend." He said grimly.

All felt silent, looking at each other in doubt of the Asgardian. "At first glance, her thoughts are but non-existent; just the necessary activity that is needed to maintain the body going. But as I looked deeper, I found a most interesting situation…"

At the thought of something else that might help them, the team looked at him eagerly as the god searched for the right words. Words had never truly been his strongest suit, Thor recalled fondly as the light voice of his brother crosses his thoughts, but then pushes this away for the sake of the situation.

"Deep within her mind, there is energy pulsing and a red entrance… a door if you may."

"Thor, how did you manage to learn all this?" Bruce asked suddenly. The idea of scanning a mind with another mind was fascinating in his eyes, as was the prospect of a faster solution to the problem at hand.

The doctor marveled as he began to understand what was happening. Thor was translating what he had felt in Natasha's mind into words and things, he was making equivalents with objects of the physical plane so they could understand. If it had not been such a dire situation, he would have been bombarding the god with questions and perhaps one or two tests. He looked at Tony for confirmation; the billionaire had connected the same dots as him.

"My Lady mother made sure she taught me the makings of the mind." Thor said proudly and with a gentle blush on his cheeks "The paths that conform it, secret ways to access certain edges of the mind; how the mind turns and shifts like day and night do; how everything flows and everything is connected."

"Then what is wrong with her?" Asked Barton, slightly desperate; still holding the assassin's hand tightly in his. He was beginning to hope at the words of their friend. He was still wary, everyone was, but it truly seemed as if Thor knew what he was talking about and there still might be a chance for them, for _her_.

"I saw her mind, my friends, clear as day; she is captive as she had been a few days ago, but at no one's hold but her own." The god of thunder explained.

"Iiiiii don't think I understand, you just lost me right there." Said Tony as the genius that was his mind failed him for a moment, everyone's confused faces mirroring his.

"She has fallen into the oblivion of her thoughts!" Thor answered exasperated at the cluelessness of his teammates. It seemed he was not the only one having trouble with foreign concepts. He looked into their eyes and saw they did not trust him, not completely, not with this, not with Natasha on the line, though they longed to believe his words and the possibility of a solution.

At the renewed hesitation on their faces, Thor took a deep breath to calm himself and explain his intentions.

"My friends, do not fret, please, for as I am Thunder I am Healing. I know the ways of the mind and the soul and both run trough me as my blood and life force do. I trust my mother's knowledge as sure as I trust that I learnt it well. If you would allow me… I would see the depths of what ails the Lady's thoughts and mind… If you would allow me I would see her well again. With us." He added at the end.

There was silence in the room.

"I think it's a good idea." Said Steve after a moment.

"No, no way in hell." Replied the archer as it dawned on him what Thor intended to do, what he could have been doing just a few minutes ago, his body tensing at the thought.

"Clint…"

"No, _Rogers_." Barton stopped the Captain furiously. "Are you seriously considering letting him play inside Nat's head?!" His blood began to boil as his anger rose. He turned to the other blond. "No offence, Thor, but I don't know how well you can do this, I don't know if you can pull this off without messing up her mind, I _can't_ trust you with that. I'm not going to let you run around her head and _mess it up_!"

An uproar of voices rose in the room to the point where it was unclear what came from whom. Thunder began to make itself present at the limits of the city as Thor's anger flared up at the situation, some comments reaching such levels of insult he began to doubt how much of a comrade they truly believed him.

"Stop! **Stop**!" And they did, at the sound of the Captain's voice. "You really have so little faith in Thor you think he would risk something like that?" he asked with a frown. "Do you honestly think he would offer to do something like this if he was not sure he could do it? Do you think he would risk Nat's wellbeing for a shot he was not sure he could make?"

He turned to Thor and the previous mistrust that had invaded Steve was gone. Thor's face was filled with surprise at the sudden statement, for a moment he really had thought than none would offer him the benefit of the doubt.

"I trust you, Thor," Said Steve with an honest face, "and if you say you can help Nat to come out of this in your own way, then I believe you. I trust you know what you're doing."

The Avengers looked at one another. What was the right thing to do? Could they really risk this?

Clint closed his eyes and covered his head with a hand. Frustration and many other feelings knotting up inside him.

"If we are going through with this, you are going to have to give us more intel, Thor." Clint looked up at him finally, a heavy frown creasing his brow.

There was in Thor's heart a sudden warmth that spread through his body. They still doubted him and what he could do, but they were trusting him enough to give it a try. The rumbling sky calmed down.

"So, what's the plan, Shakespeare?" Asked Tony with a daring grin.

* * *

"I still don't understand this door thing. It's a bit unclear to me." Said Steve after a long talk on what was going on inside Natasha's head, what was going to be done and how Thor would do it.

"The mind works with chambers, if you would like to think of it as something. It is like a palace with gardens inside and big rooms and smaller rooms and secret passages. Before, when I glanced into her mind, all rooms were dark, as if the lights had been turned off. But deep within I found something bright and red… a door; it shone alight in the darkness of her thoughts and the sound of her essence." He answered.

"Thor, speak clearer. Not all of us speak theater language." Said Tony as he munched some almonds and sorted through the information he was being provided.

"So what, are you going to unlock the knob of this door and get her out?" Asked Clint as he tried to understand.

"Not all doors have knobs, my friend." Said Thor with an amused smile. "I think you are all taking my words too literally. If I go inside her mind there will not be a place, nor any gardens or rooms. These are just the reflections of her and how they could be spoken of." He said, trying to explain something unexplainable. They had been at this for an hour already; his patience was beginning to thin. He felt like he was trying to explain what colors or feelings would look like if they were objects, it was hard and kind of impossible to find comparisons.

"The door, Thor, get back to the door." Tony said with exasperation.

"Yes, right." He cleared his throat. "To make it simple, that is the place I have to reach at the end of my journey, or rather, the beginning of it. When I get there I must be gentle in the way I open that part of her consciousness; if I do it incorrectly it may shut forever or it could crumble another part of her mind."

"That doesn't sound very good." Said Bruce, cleaning his glasses with concern.

"Worry not, my friend." Thor smiled kindly, "I have done this before. These sort of places respond to kindness and memory, all I need to find is the right memory and it will open itself." He said, sure of his words.

"So you _are_ planning on sneaking around her memories." Clint said, slightly horrified, although he had expected something of the like. Natasha did not share things lightly with anyone and she hardly trusted him with her secrets; to have Thor snooping around… it was bound to end badly. He tried to shove away any thoughts of Loki that might come to him, because it was not just the fact that Thor would see everything, but that he could change her from the inside, too. The god was not his brother; Clint had to remember, as he himself was not Barney.*

"I'm afraid I must, if I am to free her of herself." He said apologetically, understanding for the most part the archer's thoughts. "She is most likely locked away in a memory." He explained. "Perhaps… a place that brings her comfort or in the worst of cases, a memory that brings her great pain. Because of her recent experience the possibilities are endless; she could have even created a place of her own to protect herself. It is usually what triggers this sort of thing… the need to feel safe and to expel everything else out; people who are hurt want nothing with the world."

"Are you saying that if you fail, and Natasha is indeed trapped in the worst she has, she will stay there until she wakes on her own or… forever if she doesn't?" Asked Steve, he wouldn't wish a fate like that even on his worst enemy.

"Given the circumstances in which we are, if I fail it will probably be a long time before she wakes, for this, she has inflicted upon herself. If not consciously, at the very least it came to pass as a wayward wish."

"I guess there really isn't much else we can discuss of this…" Concluded Bruce after there was silence and added as an afterthought, "Any warnings before you go head first into this, Thor? This would really be a good time for them."

The god thought about it for a moment.

"I have seen these machines before." He said as he pointed to the brain and heart activity. "My Lady Jane has told me they act upon the thoughts and the heartbeat." He said pointing at the screen. His answer just prompted a nod from the doctor. "As I will be looking through her mind, please, do not be fooled; passing through her knowledge and memories will activate them momentarily. I guess… I could give you a quick example." He walked to the head of the bed.

Thor felt the archer tense slightly and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Worry not, Barton." He said with one finger at the side of her head, "I will just brush her consciousness." He closed his eyes. "A common thought." He announced as a faint light spread from the tip of his finger. "Coffee in the morning." He smiled contently as the image of the assassin with her mug flooded his mind.

A single wave of activity passed over the brain monitor and nothing more. Thor opened his eyes.

"I'm just guessing here," started Tony "but… won't the activity disappear once you cross the subconscious level? If we could see the subconsciousness the chart would be flipping, right?"

"I do believe so." Confirmed the Asgardian.

"Well, if that is all, I think we're ready to begin!" Said Iron Man, hardly covering his excitement, which earned him a glare from Clint and a disapproving look from Steve.

"There is… one more thing I should add." Said Thor. "Time does not work in the mind as it does in this world."

"Like a dream, you mean?" Asked Steve.

"Oh my God, you where watching Inception, am I right?" Asked Tony with a smirk. "I totally am." He said smugly as the soldier diverted his gaze from the genius. Now was definitely not the time for this conversation.

"Yes, something like a dream." Said the blond with a little smile. "But it is possible I could lose track of time. As I could take just some minutes or an hour, there is a possibility I could be here a whole day or even two. Do not fear if that is the case." He assured.

"What is the longest you've been inside someone's head?" Asked Clint, surprised.

"The longest I have been in anyone's mind has been eight days." Thor said after a thought.

"Eight days?!" Asked Bruce horrified.

"Yes." Thor affirmed sadly. "But, as I said, do not fear. The life of the one I helped was hundreds of years longer than any of yours; it was a long life to look into, with many memories and many pains. I had to be cautious with my steps as well as check every crevice and creak. He had been trapped in a maze of sorts and the illusion that he deserved the pain he felt made it hard for me to free him."

Finally sitting in a tall chair they had brought, Thor sat at the head of the medical bed that was in the middle of the room. He arranged lightly the loose hairs on the woman's forehead and tucked them behind her ear.

"If there is nothing more, I shall-" But someone took his wrist before he could place it by the side of the assassin's head. Looking to his side he found the worried gaze of Hawkeye.

"You must understand, Thor… Natasha is very secretive about her past and what she has done, she will not be grateful to anyone snooping around. Whatever you see there…" Clint did not finish.

"Aye, archer. No word will leave my mouth from what I may encounter, the mind is the only place where we can feel safe and none should be able to corrupt that. Worry not, her thoughts will be her own by the end of this journey, and my mind will deny her secrets to the point at which they will be but dreams as I sleep."

With a slight nod, Clint let go and stood back.

"Thor, if you could do this," said Bruce suddenly "why didn't you say anything sooner?" he asked without malice.

"This is no common practice amongst mortals and it is almost as rare in Asgard, I… was afraid of how you might react." Thor explained sheepishly. "But I could not stay away for very long." He said with a gentle smile, as he looked down at Natasha. "It is not in my blood to do nothing if a friend of mine is in need of my help. Like it's not in the nature of lightning to stand still. In my power also lies the ability to bind her bones and mend her skin as if nothing had ever touched her or at least something akin, but I'm afraid I cannot heal her body if I do not tend to her mind first." He said sadly. "If I tried this, my power would surely dissolve as what would it be able to do if there is no conscience in a body?" He shook his head a bit displeased "I promise you, when we return," and in the air lingered the word 'we', as if he was sure he would not fail. It gave Clint both hope and fear of Thor's confidence, "I shall see to her body, too."

With one was look at them all; he nodded as a last goodbye.

And with all that being said, he closed his eyes and placed his hands by the sides of Natasha's head; gently resting on her hair. A golden light spread from his fingertips and blue tendrils spread around these. The world of Thor went dark until he felt himself no more in the plains of this realm but another.

For a moment, he was lost between two different universes, until he was not.

* * *

 **Abril: I don't remember ever writing a chapter for a multistory so long :/**

 **For the ones that don't know, Thor is INDEED god of healing, too, and I took, as you can see, many liberties for this story.**

 **Any doubts or mistakes feel free to tell me :)**

 ***Barney is the brother of Clint (who was sort of a little bitch to him and then not and then he was again) in the comics.**


End file.
